


for dear old dad

by madgexal



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Funeral, Powell and Callahan and Flo are there, Spoilers, but they’re also soulmates, but they’re only mentioned - Freeform, it is sad hours, its a Big Sad, max and el are best friends, so are el and mike, the rest of the party is there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-12 01:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19556530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madgexal/pseuds/madgexal
Summary: El felt like she owed him everything, and in a way she did, but how could she give everything she owed back? The least she could do was give him a eulogy.[aka s3 spoilers so don’t read if you haven’t seen it yet.]





	for dear old dad

**Author's Note:**

> This is Stranger Things season 3 spoilers so don’t read if you haven’t watched. Or do. I can’t stop you but here’s a warning. 
> 
> First time posting fanfiction for Stranger Things. 
> 
> Reviews and comments are always welcome. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Enjoy!

They asked her to give a eulogy. 

At first she’s super confused because she doesn’t even know what that is and why do they need it. It’s a funeral, yes. But she’s never been to one. 

When Joyce finally explains to her what it is, after they’ve moved her into Will’s old room, El sobs. Joyce pulls her into a hug and they both pretend that she isn’t crying either. 

“What would I even say?”

Joyce sighed, brushing the hair out of her face. “Just something nice about him. Something to remember him by. To help others remember him in a positive way.”

El sniffed. “But he’s gone. That isn’t something positive.”

“I know, sweetheart, but it’s what people do.” Joyce gives her a small smile. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t feel comfortable.”

That’s all Hop wanted to do for her. Make sure she was comfortable. 

She owed it to him to do the same for him. To tell all these people how great he was for her. 

“No. I’ll do it.”

She had trouble finding the words to say. El was never great with words and this was no different. Her time in the lab had made many things troubling for her. 

Words. Emotions. People. 

After sitting with Max at Billy’s own funeral and listening to her eulogy for him she understood more on the bittersweet speeches. 

She still had no words. 

Mike told her that that’s okay. He’d help her if she wanted it. The entire party would help her figure out what to say. 

“No. Thank you but I need to do this.”

He nodded. He gently grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You know where to find me and Max and the others if you want help but there’s no pressure.” He pressed his lips against her forehead making her heart flutter. 

They hadn’t gotten back together yet. El needed time to find herself still and Mike respected that, understanding that the last thing she needed right now was a boyfriend and settled for being her best friend until she was ready for more, if ever.

The day of the funeral, the sun shines brighter than it has in a long time. 

It makes El super pissed. 

Why should the rest of the world be beautiful and just keep on moving when hers has fallen apart? 

She puts on an old black dress of Nancy’s and Joyce helps her do her hair. Max spent the night and sits on her bed, tying her shoes silently. 

They all ignore their own respective tears. 

“Alright. All set.” Joyce brushed away a loose curl. She sighed. “You look beautiful, El.”

She smiled and nodded. “You too.”

Joyce nodded in return. 

Max stood up and grabbed El’s hand. “It’s nearly time to go. Ready?” 

El looked at Sarah’s hairband on her wrist. The only color she wore. She refused to take it off. 

“Yes.”

There were a lot more people than she expected but Hopper knew a lot of people.

He was in a war and a cop in New York. He grew up in Hawkins and was familiar with a lot of people in the town. 

All of their faces wore grim expressions that make her stomach swirl. They’re all meeting her for most likely the first time and it’s under awful circumstances. 

Many come up and give what Mike called condolences. 

“It’s what people say to show sympathy. To express that they’re sorry for a loss.”

El only nodded. 

Powell, Callahan and other officers wear their uniforms and Flo is crying into a handkerchief. 

The party is there, as well as Steve and Robin, and Max kissed her cheek before going to sit with them. All of them grouped together, right behind her while she sits with Joyce. 

Several people say a couple words before it’s her turn. She doesn’t hear anything of what they say, numb to it all. 

Someone squeezed her shoulder, either Mike or Max, but she knew what it meant. 

She slowly stood up and walked to the podium and turned towards the crowd. 

Everyone’s silent, watching her. It makes her feel squeamish. 

One of his rules: don’t be seen. Before it changed to: don’t be seen by too many people. 

She swallowed and looked at Sarah’s hairband again. 

“Many of you probably don’t know me. I’m Jane El Hopper. Hop recently took me in after my mother passed away.” 

It was the story they’d settled on. He had been with someone and gotten them pregnant. He hadn’t known he’d had a daughter until a couple months ago when the mother called him out of the blue, telling him about how she was sick and El needed to live with her father. 

She sighed. “I’m not very good with words but I promised I’d do this because I owed it to him.” She smiled for a second. “If he were here he’d probably tell me to stop being stupid because I owed nothing to him. We both did that a lot. He owed me because I gave him a new daughter and some happiness. I owed him for taking me in and giving me a home and friends.”

She looked at her group and they all wore tears and smiles. She locked eyes with Mike and he nodded. 

El inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling better. 

“I never called him dad or told him I loved him. Neither of us are—were very good with showing emotions besides anger at each other, nor were we good with words. It was hard being with him at first. I’d count the days. Until what or when, I didn’t know. But he was an angry old man and I was a punk.”

The crowd laughed at that. 

“I do love him though. He showed me my first real home. He fed me all the Eggos I could ever want. He put up with all my awful soaps that I love to watch. He’d tell me stories of Sarah, his first daughter, and his days as a big city cop that always got in over his head.”

Some people in the crowd laughed loud, obviously looking fondly at their memories of him being impulsive in the field. 

“He taught me a lot from the brief time I knew him. I grew up with little—too little—but everything he gave me was so much. He fought for me and everyone he ever loved. He fought hard for this town. That’s who he was a fighter. 

“But he loved, too. He loved Hawkins and the people in it. He loved my friends besides always calling them punks. He loved his best friend, Joyce Byers,” El smiled at Joyce, who was crying but smiled in return 

“And he loved me, too. So wherever he is now, I hope he knows that his daughter loves her dad and that she misses him more than anything but she’s super thankful for him, too. Jim Hopper is one of the best things that has ever happened to a punk like Jane El Hopper.”

Everyone sniffed. 

She nodded, crying. She looked over at the casket, which she knew was empty before sitting back down by Joyce who pulled her into a hug. 

The rest of the funeral passed by blandly. El didn’t remember much. People came up to tell her how sorry they were but they had no idea. 

He had died down there protecting her and Hawkins. These people only knew what the press had told them. 

He’d died a hero fighting Russians. 

But he’d died down there, fighting for her. 

And that was almost too much for El to handle.


End file.
